Condoleezza Rice watches her drive on the 7th hole at Pebble Beach. The former secretary of state is one of two women in the amateur field for the annual AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am tournament.

Photo: Lance Iversen, The Chronicle

Condoleezza Rice watches her drive on the 7th hole at Pebble Beach....

Image 2 of 5

Condoleezza Rice prepares to hit her second shot on the 8th hole at Pebble Beach Golf Links in front of her caddie Kathryn Imrie, the assistant women's Golf Coach at Stanford University during opening rounds of the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am golf tournament on Thursday, Feb. 7th, 2013, in Pebble Beach, Calif.

Photo: Lance Iversen, The Chronicle

Condoleezza Rice prepares to hit her second shot on the 8th hole at...

Condoleezza Rice's first name comes from the Italian musical term con dolcezza - "with sweetness." That was how Rice played her round Thursday at Pebble Beach on the first day of the AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am. She was all smiles and nods to the galleries, backslaps and friendly chatter with her group.

And that's how Rice, intentionally or not, is quietly helping change the face of golf for women and people of color. She keeps popping up at golf clubs and in tournaments that were once fortresses of the white, male ruling elite.

This week, for Rice, it's all about playing golf, con dolcezza, although there were a few sour moments Thursday, like Rice's tee shot on No. 6 that clonked off the forehead of a woman in the gallery, drawing blood. (The injury proved minor.)

Mostly, the former secretary of state and national security adviser in George W. Bush's administration, and current Stanford professor, was all sunshine, like the weather. Pebble Beach on a day like Thursday is so nice that it's almost sickening.

Rice takes her golf seriously, but refuses to wear the face of the ferocious grinder. She was addressing her second shot on No. 17, near a grandstand, when a marshal began barking at a man who ignored shouted orders to put away his cell phone camera. For any golfer, this is a code-red distraction. Rice smiled at the angry marshal and said quietly, "It's all right."

That's diplomacy.

Landing Rice in the field of celebs was a big coup for the Pebble folks. She represents power. Rice is probably the most powerful person to play this tourney since former President Gerald Ford in 1992.

More relevant, Rice quietly has become a one-woman wrecking crew of golf's barriers to women. Last year, she and banker Darla Moore became the first women accorded membership at Augusta National, a playground of super-powerful white men and home of the Masters tournament.

Country club membership

Rice is also a member of Alabama's Shoal Creek Country Club, ground zero for golf's major integration/exclusion battle in 1990. And Rice is a member of Monterey'sCypress Point Golf Club, which was kicked out of the AT&T tournament's three-course rotation in 1990 because it had no black members (although some women), and refused to come into compliance with PGA Tour inclusion rules.

The AT&T tournament field itself, as usual, isn't exactly teeming with women. There are two among the 156 amateurs. The other is Heidi Ueberroth, whose husband, Peter, is a quarter-owner of the Pebble Beach course.

So Rice, intentionally or not, is kicking down doors and focusing attention on golf's racial and gender selectivity.

Nice about it

While carrying a big stick, she is speaking softly.

When Rice was asked after her round if she set out to integrate those three notoriously exclusive bastions, she replied sunnily, "I'm just trying to play golf, just trying to play golf. They're great places. I'm honored to be a member of all of them."

The Augusta membership is the most significant. To many women, the exclusion there wasn't about denied access to a game.

"Let's face it," said Martha Burk of the National Council of Women's Organizations, "It was never about golf. It's about access to power, access to the place where deals are made and money passes hands."

By all appearances, though, to Rice it's all about golf. She's 59, took up the game at age 50, works at it diligently with coaches, takes it quite seriously.

The day job

Rice's day job is at Stanford, where she teaches courses in politics and graduate-level economics. She is also the godmother of Cardinal athletics. She is heavily involved in the recruiting of athletes in all the sports, and she counsels and advises many Stanford athletes. And works on her game.

Rice's pro partner, Jason Bohn, said that when the going got tough Thursday, Rice got tougher, willing her game back on track instead of simmering or moping. She competes.

"I appreciate that more than anything, that she's kicking herself in the butt saying, 'Come on, let's go!' " said Bohn, who was 1-under-par Thursday. With the help of Rice, a 17-handicap, the team stands at 2-under.

Bohn, who played golf at the University of Alabama, was thrilled to be paired with the Alabama-born Rice, who introduced herself on the practice green by saying, "Roll, Tide!"

Rice's bag is stamped with a Stanford "S," and her club-head covers are the 'Bama elephant, Notre Dame shamrocks (she went to grad school there) and Augusta National logos.

Let's talk golf

Bohn said he and his wife made up a list of questions for him to ask Rice, and their neighbors chimed in with more questions.

Said Bohn, "I was like, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa! I've got to see how it goes. I've got to see how deep we can go into it.' "

Not very deep. Bohn said Rice was more interested in talking golf, and that's fine with him. He could see that she's here to play golf. She left her political resume and her soapbox at home, packed her clubs and came to golf's paradise.

Rice didn't talk about how, as a girl in Alabama during the civil rights revolution, she practiced piano while her father sat at the window with a loaded gun, ready to defend the home against violence.

Now she can tee it up at once-forbidden courses, walk the fairways as a welcome guest. A star, even. She won't say it, but that's pretty cool.